JFT #35/Afterlife
Here there be angst, kiddies. Major angst. :-(
JFT #35
Afterlife
There was no way either one of us was going to sleep tonight. I still couldn't believe it. There was something almost...surreal...about the whole thing. Like a...
"Shite!"
"What was that?"
"Performance."
"Run that by me again, Bri. I'm still not getting it."
"Curt, would you say that Jack is a fair actor?"
"I guess. Why?"
"Maybe even a good one? If he needed to be?"
"Maybe. Why?"
I grabbed hold of Curt's arm before we went any further. Thank God I'd never bothered to buy a car. Otherwise, we would have been home by now, and Jack would have been...somewhere bloody else.
"We've been played by the fucking Master."
"Where are we going?"
"Back to Jack's."
*****
I put my finger to my lips and waved Curt ahead of me. We entered Jack's flat silently and just as I thought, he never heard us coming.
We picked our way carefully through the debris that used to be Jack's living room to the bedroom. It broke my heart to see him this way. I couldn't begin to imagine how bad Curt felt.
Jack looked like the aftermath of a very bad party. Without his make-up, he seemed younger. Or he would have if his nose and eyes weren't so red and swollen.
He was going to kill us once he realized we were here. But that was a chance I was willing to take.
"Jack?" I pitched my voice as softly as possible so as not to startle him too much. But he jumped just the same.
"Why did you come back?" he whispered.
"Why did you send us away?"
He dragged air into his lungs as if it took tremendous effort. "Same reason I didn't go after A-Arthur." When he said Arthur's name, he buried his face in his pillow, and I was afraid I might cry.
Curt made his way to the other side of the bed and sat down as gently as he could. With a sidelong glance at me, he stroked Jack's hair. Jack bore it in utter silence for several long moments before he began to sob. I don't think I've ever seen Curt look so tormented.
Curt tried to pull Jack away from his pillow, but he wasn't going willingly. Curt blinked helplessly in my direction, and I knelt on the bed beside him. Together we pulled Jack into a sitting position, but he refused to look at either one of us.
I couldn't demand that Jack talk to us. Not when he was hurting like this. But I couldn't pretend to understand him either. Curt cradled Jack in his arms, and I kept thinking that I should be intensely jealous.
Only I wasn't.
Jack would consider that a victory. But it was hard to take any satisfaction when you saw one of your idols brought low this way.
Especially after Curt looked up at me with tears in his eyes.
"Jack? What's wrong?"
I don't know which scared me more: Jack's answer or the way he was hanging onto Curt.
"I didn't want to bring any of you into this."
"Into what?"
Jack seemed lost, and I can't remember him ever not knowing the way before. When he smiled, it was unexpected. But I thought that maybe we were finally going to understand what drove him to this.
"Arthur was the best thing that ever happened to me," he whispered.
"Is he all right?"
Now he asked? I resisted the temptation to shout, How do you think he is? He thinks you don't love him anymore.
Curt tested his voice instead and muttered, "He's pretty upset, Jack."
Jack closed his eyes on a wave of fresh pain. "I know." When he opened his eyes again, though, he seemed to find new resolve. "Could you tell him I loved him?"
"He needs to hear it from you, Jack," Curt said huskily.
"Not now. After."
"After?" I thought Curt was going to come right off the bed. "What the fuck are you talking about, man? You sound like you're dying or something."
Jack looked like Curt struck him, and I knew. "No, no, no," I said, backing up. I nearly fell off the bed and into the door, but I couldn't take my eyes off him.
God, that terrible look on his face. I sat down right where I stood and watched Curt wrap his arms around him. Our eyes met, right before my vision blurred with tears.
How were we going to tell Arthur?
*****
JFT #35
Afterlife
There was no way either one of us was going to sleep tonight. I still couldn't believe it. There was something almost...surreal...about the whole thing. Like a...
"Shite!"
"What was that?"
"Performance."
"Run that by me again, Bri. I'm still not getting it."
"Curt, would you say that Jack is a fair actor?"
"I guess. Why?"
"Maybe even a good one? If he needed to be?"
"Maybe. Why?"
I grabbed hold of Curt's arm before we went any further. Thank God I'd never bothered to buy a car. Otherwise, we would have been home by now, and Jack would have been...somewhere bloody else.
"We've been played by the fucking Master."
"Where are we going?"
"Back to Jack's."
*****
I put my finger to my lips and waved Curt ahead of me. We entered Jack's flat silently and just as I thought, he never heard us coming.
We picked our way carefully through the debris that used to be Jack's living room to the bedroom. It broke my heart to see him this way. I couldn't begin to imagine how bad Curt felt.
Jack looked like the aftermath of a very bad party. Without his make-up, he seemed younger. Or he would have if his nose and eyes weren't so red and swollen.
He was going to kill us once he realized we were here. But that was a chance I was willing to take.
"Jack?" I pitched my voice as softly as possible so as not to startle him too much. But he jumped just the same.
"Why did you come back?" he whispered.
"Why did you send us away?"
He dragged air into his lungs as if it took tremendous effort. "Same reason I didn't go after A-Arthur." When he said Arthur's name, he buried his face in his pillow, and I was afraid I might cry.
Curt made his way to the other side of the bed and sat down as gently as he could. With a sidelong glance at me, he stroked Jack's hair. Jack bore it in utter silence for several long moments before he began to sob. I don't think I've ever seen Curt look so tormented.
Curt tried to pull Jack away from his pillow, but he wasn't going willingly. Curt blinked helplessly in my direction, and I knelt on the bed beside him. Together we pulled Jack into a sitting position, but he refused to look at either one of us.
I couldn't demand that Jack talk to us. Not when he was hurting like this. But I couldn't pretend to understand him either. Curt cradled Jack in his arms, and I kept thinking that I should be intensely jealous.
Only I wasn't.
Jack would consider that a victory. But it was hard to take any satisfaction when you saw one of your idols brought low this way.
Especially after Curt looked up at me with tears in his eyes.
"Jack? What's wrong?"
I don't know which scared me more: Jack's answer or the way he was hanging onto Curt.
"I didn't want to bring any of you into this."
"Into what?"
Jack seemed lost, and I can't remember him ever not knowing the way before. When he smiled, it was unexpected. But I thought that maybe we were finally going to understand what drove him to this.
"Arthur was the best thing that ever happened to me," he whispered.
"Is he all right?"
Now he asked? I resisted the temptation to shout, How do you think he is? He thinks you don't love him anymore.
Curt tested his voice instead and muttered, "He's pretty upset, Jack."
Jack closed his eyes on a wave of fresh pain. "I know." When he opened his eyes again, though, he seemed to find new resolve. "Could you tell him I loved him?"
"He needs to hear it from you, Jack," Curt said huskily.
"Not now. After."
"After?" I thought Curt was going to come right off the bed. "What the fuck are you talking about, man? You sound like you're dying or something."
Jack looked like Curt struck him, and I knew. "No, no, no," I said, backing up. I nearly fell off the bed and into the door, but I couldn't take my eyes off him.
God, that terrible look on his face. I sat down right where I stood and watched Curt wrap his arms around him. Our eyes met, right before my vision blurred with tears.
How were we going to tell Arthur?
*****